


Leash

by ThisPeep



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Sebastian Moran, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Jim, Omega Sherlock, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8194123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisPeep/pseuds/ThisPeep
Summary: It's a seduction, of course. In hiding, in the closet, and insane.





	1. strap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The base.

It was enough by the way he breathed, to leave Jim Moriarty seething. Quietly, of course, entirely silently and deep below the surface. That was the thing about being in charge-- had to keep all emotions a secret in front of the soldiers. 

It had never been difficult before Sebastian Moran had showed up, reeking of alpha so strongly it made Jim want to vomit, even from a meter away. Jim would have slit his throat if he wasn’t sure he’d never be able to scrub the scent off of himself, and he would have had someone else do it if Sebastian wasn’t brilliant with a sniper rifle. 

But, alas, he was. So Jim didn’t. Although it got progressively more tempting whenever Sebastian’s eyes darkened or whatever his foot twitched with the need to step closer. Yes, yes, Jim knew he smelt like a wine and steak dinner, or whatever drivel alphas had said in the past, but that didn’t mean that alphas could just come snuggling up to him whenever. Especially not when Jim wasn’t on scent suppressors-- they smelt even worse, then.

Sebastian was trustworthy at least, though. He’d always had a thing for Jim, even back when he thought Jim was just a beta, but since the day he found out Jim was on omega he’d practically fallen in love. It wasn’t cute. But it was handy, because it meant Jim could get things done through Sebastian when he didn’t have time to take suppressants or missed a dose or any number of situations where he clearly was an omega.

And dear Sebastian was content enough (or perhaps just scared enough) to keep his distance and not try to pull any moves on Jim. His personality wasn’t terrible. Maybe, if not for his gender and his god-awful scent, Jim would have even reciprocated the attraction.

No, though. Jim had never in his life been attracted to an alpha, and it wasn’t looking like he’d magically start being straight anytime soon to do so.

Still! Was hardly the worst. He wasn’t the only gay omega out there, and there were plenty of discreet ways to find ones. At least, discreet enough alpha bigots wouldn’t find out about and go on a rampage over. They just-- smelt so much nicer, and tasted like heaven, and they weren’t complete idiots all the time. Omegas were pretty, and more tolerable, and they were less blatantly destructive. Didn’t think punching was the best form of seduction.

And maybe if, after worming his way back into the attention of Sherlock Holmes, Jim’s hook ups got taller and their hair got curlier, it wasn’t an issue. Despite those piercing eyes and encompassing demeanor, Jim knew the dear wasn’t the beta most thought he was, nor the alpha he tried to mimic. In fact, that was rather what gave Sherlock away-- tried to hard to act like an alpha. A beta wouldn’t care to. No, no matter how well Sherlock played a part there was that little part of him that yearned for the opposite of the disregard and pity he was raised with, and Jim fished it out with all the sheer joy of every one of his wet dreams coming true.

It was only when he was sure that he sent that first text.

 

**hows having an alpha for an older brother x**

It wasn’t long until the reply. There was a very small amount of people who’d have that information, and Sherlock was undoubtedly hopeful for which one it was that was texting him.

**Tolerable. SH**

**really? couldnt imagine having an older sibling being pleasant, nonetheless a knot-head x**

**He hardly has the time to get distracted by those things. SH**

**oh, you wouldnt know. betas never understand that sort of thing x**

**So I’ve been told. SH**

**awh, dont be upset x**  
**im sure if you were an omega, hed have been all over you x**

**He’s my brother. SH**

**so? x**  
**when have rules stopped either of you before? x**

**That’s disgusting. SH**

**silly betas, you really dont understand anything, do you? x**

**I don’t think my gender matters to my intelligence. SH**

**no? everyone knows betas are the dumb ones x**  
**well. not everyone x**

**And here I thought omegas were. SH**

**betas do too. isnt that just the most precious thing? x**  
**you and your brother prove that it’s alphas and omegas, though x**

**They’re not necessarily smarter than betas. SH**

**oh, everyones smarter than betas x**  
**that made you the anomaly that first gave me hope x**

**Hoping I’m an omega for you to breed? SH**

**ooh, dirty talk right off the bat. love your style, sherls x**  
**im afraid, though, that if thats your wish i cant fulfill it x**

**Here I thought you were praising your own genius. SH**

**oh, i was x**

**[delayed] Ah. SH**

**mhm x**

**Now that is impressive. SH**

**aw, youre going to make me wet x**

**Crude. SH**  
**Why trust me with this information? SH**

**level the playing field x**

**I’m guessing you think you have proof. SH**

**mhm x**  
**dont worry. im defintely not going to be sharing x**

**Not for now. SH**

**darling, ill never share you x**

**Forward of you. SH**

**ever visit chelstdons? x**

**[delayed] Yes. SH**

**thought so. fancy meeting me there for a drink? x**

**I don’t actually have a deathwish, you know. SH**

**yes you do x**  
**see you in twenty, tall dark and handsome x**


	2. hook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The connection.

Jim rolled his shoulders back, eyes still on the clock on his phone. He was ten minutes late, right then. Going in ten minutes late would look far too practiced-- eleven was perfect. Just close enough to on purpose that people wouldn’t usually chose it, and just far enough away that it wouldn’t be blatantly on purpose. Jim wasn’t here for a power play where he came on top-- he just wanted to see Sherlock look relieved when Jim did walk in.

And oh, after pocketing his phone and slipping into the bar, he got just that. A little microsecond of a pleased flash in Sherlock’s eye, the way his shoulders relaxed just a hair further down, other details Jim couldn’t name but he did so appreciate the large picture.

He sat down at the bar next to Sherlock. And, of course, he grinned at the bartender and contently asked for, “My usual.” to which the bartender nodded and trundled off to make.

“Here that often?”

Jim grinned. That voice was so much nicer when it was less than a foot away from him. “Practically every night.”

“It’s a miracle you manage to keep your secret at all, then.”

Deep and full, and Jim was definitely going to start to get wet, and Sherlock would definitely be able to smell it. Something to look forward to. “Not all of us can be trailed so easily.” Jim murmured, and he graciously accepted the drink and took a sip before glancing over to Sherlock. “How many times have you been here, darling?”

Sherlock almost blinked, and his words came out just… a little too late. “Only once or twice.”

“Ooh, feel too slutty if you’d tell me the real answer? That’d adorable. You’ve never left here alone, then, have you?” Jim’d just asked how many times Sherlock had indulged in an omega gay bar, and Sherlock would only be embarrassed about it if he only went to get laid.

“My body has needs.”

“Aw, so what, I take care of your mind and nameless flings help you out with your more carnal cravings? I’ve never been offended someone wanted me just for my mind, before.”

“You’re thinner than I thought.”

Oh, and Jim didn’t have his guard nearly as up as Sherlock did, and he blinked. “This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me in person, Sherls.”

“No, but it’s the first time I’ve been this close.”

Jim snorted softly, and he took the opportunity to shift closer. “Is your eyesight leaving you in your old age?”

Sherlock knew where that question was going to lead. Of course he did-- he knew Jim so well, after all. So his answer was a pleasant surprise. “Perhaps.”

“Happens to the best of us. Especially the best of us who read.”

“Mhm.”

“Maybe you should get closer, then. To properly pick out all my flaws.”

“And lower your chance of burning me?”

“To help me light you afire.”

It was obvious, when Sherlock smelt the change in Jim’s arousal, from interested to awakened. He’d done a good job at keeping things muted, but they’d been leaning in closer, and Sherlock couldn’t stop his back stiffening and his pupils dilating and the shift of his jaw as his mouth went dry.

A moment later, Jim had a different reaction. He smelt Sherlock’s arousal churned and loosened more, leant in a touch closer, let out a soft breath and saliva pooled around his tongue. 

“You’re very hopeful.”

“You’re very willing.”

“But not tonight.”

“No.” Jim agreed, because that would be too fast, and both of them wanted to draw out the foreplay longer. “Not tonight.”

Sherlock sighed quietly, partly in relief, but clearly also partly in disappointment. Jim understood-- obviously, he understood. 

Jim leant in closer again, next to Sherlock’s ear. “Switch out your suppressants for beta blockers.”

“Still so crude. Higher chance of someone finding out about me.”

“Play the risk, for me. Don’t you want the anticipation of knowing when you’ll have closure by?”

“This won’t be closure.”

Jim grinned again. “I know. Text me when you feel it coming on.”

Sherlock didn’t say anything, just swallowed before pulling away and standing up, promptly billowing out of the room in that melodramatic way he was oh so fond of. 

Jim relaxed back and brought up his drink to his lips, taking a large mouthful. Waiting game again, then. At least this time he wouldn’t have to be the one to text first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when u stay up late to write another chapter bc who cares about early classes anyway


	3. loop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock goes into heat.

Jim’d gotten the text seven hours and thirteen minutes ago, and he was planning on waiting at least another fifteen minutes before texting back. Sherlock had just said I feel it starting, and Jim didn’t want to have to go through the whole fuss of lulling Sherlock into telling him where he was. Just waiting until he got too warm and desperate would do fine, and another sixteen minutes passed and Jim just texted back ‘where’ and got a response almost immediately.

Wasn’t Baker Street, obviously. John was there. And John was an alpha. That was just a terrible plan. Some small house somewhere, probably owned and unused by the Holmes family, and Jim grinned before sending back a ‘see you soon xo’ and trailing off into the night.

 

It wasn’t long after that, that Jim arrived. And if he hadn’t been on suppressants of his own, the smell when he opened the door alone would have triggered a sympathetic heat. Poor man was stewing in hormones. Jim quietly closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes and padding into the room with the source of the smell as silently as he could.

And god, Sherlock looked like a dream. Many of Jim’s dreams, actually. All wrapped up into one. The good thing about real life, though, was that you got more senses than just sight and hearing. 

Touch was the best one, as Jim peeled the blanket off of Sherlock and slid his hand into curls, sweat sticking to his skin as he trailed it down to rest on Sherlock’s face, warmth and heat adding extra believability to that pretty blush he was sporting, and there was nothing like the feeling of the way Sherlock’s lips and teeth closed around Jim’s thumb to suck it in when he traced Sherlock’s bottom lip.

And taste-- oh, maybe that was the best one, actually, because Jim could taste sex in the air, the damp lingerment and the salt from Sherlock’s skin, and when he leant down to lick along Sherlock’s jaw line to taste that sweat more clearly and it was beautiful, honestly, the way senses in real life mixed because he could taste how warm Sherlock was on his tongue, could taste how Sherlock smelt like desperation, taste how Sherlock looked like heaven and sounded like a gift and he tasted Sherlock’s heartbeat, high up in his throat, thudding with everything on the planet weighing it down. 

Jim leant back, and Sherlock whined, and tried to grind up against Jim but he stopped Sherlock with a hand on his hip, leaning down to murmur into his ear.

“Not this time, Sherlock.”

And Sherlock understood why.

 

Still, it wasn’t as though Jim abandoned him. He knew the pain of heats spent alone, and Jim had been the one to goad Sherlock into it, so of course he helped. He fetched Sherlock things and made him soup to eat and got him water and kissed him like the devil had seen heaven on his lips and carded his hand through Sherlock’s hair while he slept, but that was all. After the heat Jim ran Sherlock a bath, and after finally getting him in he washed his hair and cleaned his back. Heats were sweaty things, and Sherlock probably wasn’t enjoying the feeling of dried sweat all over him. And his hair was filthy. Poor dear had spent so long off of heats that it hit him hard and lasted almost a full week.

So Jim rolled up his sleeves and ran a sponge along his skin while Sherlock finally got a chance to just relax, and when Jim moved to stand up and fetch Sherlock a towel, he found a hand around his wrist stopping him from going. So he sat back down, back leaning against the bath, and stayed awake while Sherlock dozed to make sure he didn’t drown.

 

“That was cruel, you know.”

Jim glanced over to Sherlock, wrapped in towels and expression suspiciously like pouting. “You said yourself that it wouldn’t be closure.” 

Sherlock sighed, flopping over and letting his towels fall off of his chest dramatically, and he ignored the way Jim giggled. “I didn’t realize you’d need quite so much romancing. You struck me as a slut.”

“Oh, I definitely am.” Way more so that Sherlock was, at least. “But if someone’s worth it, they know how to work for their meals.”

“And here I got the impression you’d be eating me, not the other way around.”

“Weird, I got the impression you knew how to read people.”

Sherlock sent Jim a half-hearted glare. “I meant the first time. I know a bratty sub when I see one.”

Another giggle from Jim, and he leant over to place a kiss on Sherlock’s cheek. “Keep off your suppressants, gorgeous. I’ll get off mine. Text you when I get a fever.”

It at least guaranteed that next time nothing would be happening. And they’d be on a level playing field, unless Sherlock secretly went back on suppressants. (He wouldn’t. But he could.) “I cleared my whole week. Just in case.”

“As did I.”

“What are we going to do for the rest of the day?”

Jim smiled. “Why, twenty questions of course.”

Sherlock would have sighed if anyone but Jim’d said that. “Fine. Let me get dressed.”

 

It didn’t take long before they were sitting in front of a fire with a glass of wine each, a blanket shared between them. “Alright. You go first but first-- pick prizes.”

“I don’t want a prize.”

“It’s boring without any stakes. Go on, pick a prize.”

Sherlock sighed dramatically. “Okay, alright. Ah…” He couldn’t ask for a crime. That was too morally dark. But there was little else he wanted from Jim, beyond entertainment. “This evening, again. Before you go into heat.” 

“Awh. Romantic.” That was cute, honestly. “My prize is you reading five books of my choosing.”

“Fair.” Sherlock guessed that would be rereading, since he didn’t suppose Jim would want him to read anything he hadn’t already. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“Object?”

“Yes.”

Jim grinned. This was already fun. Of course it was, it was Sherlock, but still. “Smaller than the Eiffel Tower?”

Sherlock hummed his confirmation, topping off his glass of wine before he glanced over to the fire, smirking. Pretty sure Jim was going to get it, but, well. They’d both work each other’s thoughts out within twenty quesions easily, so it didn’t really matter.

“Something sentimental?”

Damn. That was fast. Sherlock’s smirked turned into a smile, watching the flame lap at the air. “Very.”

“Non-living?”

Hm. Okay. That one was harder to answer. “Yes, but not always.”

“Carl powers?”

“No.”

Damnit. That would have been cute. But hey, he still had fifteen questions left, so it was all good. 

“It’s not anyone you’ve killed. Clever, though.” Sherlock almost wished he had chosen Powers, except then he would have lost even sooner. He wrapped an arm around Jim’s waist, pulling him closer and into his lap, making Jim almost spill his wine. Which Jim pouted at. “I like this. You not knowing something. It’s delicious.”

“Savor it while it lasts.” Jim purred, stealing a kiss, and he draped his arm over Sherlock’s shoulder. “Give me a hint.”

“Why should I?”

“I’ll make you read six books instead of five.”

One more thing to keep Sherlock entertained. Even if it was just another thing Jim threw at him, Sherlock would still stave off boredom with reading it. It was from Jim. Meant it would inherently be at least a little bit of a puzzle. So-- maybe it was a win-win there, because Jim would adore Sherlock agreeing, because he adored any reminder that Sherlock needed him, it seemed. “It’s commonplace, but there’s one in particular that’s special to us.”

“The apple.”

Well.

“It is, isn’t it?”

_Well._

“Sherloooooock.”

“I need to get better at giving away less with hints.”

Jim laughed, catching Sherlock in a kiss, and Sherlock’s hands moved to cup Jim’s jaw and press up against his lips, and Jim’s hand moved to Sherlock’s hair to tangle his fingers in it. “Technically, you gave me two.” He murmured, after the kiss had been broken off.

“Does that mean you’re giving me seven books?”

“For a start.” 

Sherlock smiled and caught Jim in another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Jim doesn't always have sex on the first or second date


	4. collar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not quite possession.

When Sherlock woke up the next morning, Jim wasn’t in the bed. There was a note on the pillow that just read, “Stay.” And Sherlock sighed but settled back down. It took him five minutes to get bored.

It took him half an hour to be bored out of his mind.

It took him an hour to get fed up and leave, and he walked right into the sight of Jim comfortably spread on the couch with a stopwatch that he clicked when he saw Sherlock. “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be.”

“Next time I’ll tie you down.”

“That’d at least be more interesting.”

“Are you annoyed with me, dear?” 

Sherlock sat down on the chair opposite Jim. He wanted to say yes. But Jim would be able to tell that was a lie, and Sherlock didn’t want Jim knowing that he was embarrassed by not being annoyed. “You didn’t do it to be annoying.”

The giggle that came from Jim was light and pleased. “Yes I did.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “I thought everything you did had a purpose.”

“Annoying you is a purpose.”

He tilted his head. “You wanted me to hurt you in retaliation.” 

“I wanted you to try.” There was no point in lying. “See how much you could hurt.”

“You could have asked.”

“I prefer to have my clothes and actions be the ones to ask for it.” 

Sherlock stiffened. “So that, huh?”

“That, huh, indeed.”

“No.”

“Boo.”

“I’m not doing that. You can find someone else to act that out with you.”

Jim’s stare was long. Sherlock couldn’t help but realize just how dark his eyes were, how the pupil was barely discernible from the iris. He felt his heartbeat, felt it slowly kick up a few notches as Jim just continued to stare. 

For a reason he didn’t know, Sherlock felt like he should be apologizing. He almost felt like he wanted to apologize.

“Tea?” The gaze didn’t break, but it did soften into something less suffocating, and Sherlock shifted. 

“Sure.”

“Good.” Jim stood up, brushing past Sherlock and leaning down to whisper in his ear before he kept walking. “Next time, I’ll tie you down.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and thought about leaving, thought about John back at their flat and Mycroft stress eating while pouring over files to try to find Moriarty. He thought about finding someone half decent to spend heats with-- someone who actually bothered to leave him feeling satisfied.

Sherlock covered his eyes with his arm. “No milk!” He called, and he felt Jim’s sharp smile from a room away.

 

**He knows I visited you. SH**

**id guessed hed find out x**

**Spending a lot of effort to try and get me to turn you in. SH**

**aww, hes jealous. he should have taken you when he had the chance x**

**dont be a spoil sport, you know im right x**

**I prefer not to think of it. SH**

**what do you expect? hes an alpha x**  
**albeit an alpha with good taste x**

**Why do you hate alphas so much? SH**

**what reason do i have to like them? x**

**What reason do you have to like omegas? SH**

**go look in a mirror x**

**All I see are bruises. SH**

**oh? x**

**Case. SH**

Sherlock’s phone started buzzing with a call from Jim, and he answered on the fourth ring. “What, are you worried about me?”

“Where are they?”

Ah. Not surprising. Sherlock hadn’t really expected Jim to do something like worry. “My torso. And my ribs.”

“Poor baby.” Jim simpered, and his voice felt like a condescending brush of a hand through Sherlock’s hair. “Need me to bring you soup?”

“No.” He didn’t want to be taken care of. And Jim wasn’t the type to enjoy taking care of others. He broke toys, not rebuilt them. “Maybe warmth.”

“How much warmth?” Teasing, of course, but there was a knowing goading under it too.

“A decent amount of heat.”

“On bruised ribs? Risky risky.”

“You must be getting close.”

“I have a few days before it becomes an issue.”

“Give me an address.”

“I’ll do you one better than that.”

And then the line went dead, and Sherlock smiled at his phone in privacy before downing an assortment of pills with the cup of water John had left him, and he curled over and fell asleep.

 

A creak of the floor woke Sherlock up, eyes opening to pitch black and the soft sound of someone else’s voice. It wasn’t John-- he turned on lights before entering, and Sherlock’s body clock said it was the dead of night. John only would’ve been awake from nightmares, and he didn’t go into Sherlock’s room like a sad child after them.

“Jim?” 

“Sends his regards.” 

Sherlock’s eyes widened and he rolled out of the way just in time to avoid a knife that sunk into his mattress next to him, heart racing and adrenaline pumping not quite enough to block out the alert of pain his ribs screamed at him. He took a punch to the gut a moment later, anyway, and air flew out of him and left him gasping.

He kneed the figure in the crotch, shoving him away afterwards and scrambling to the door, but he felt a needle sink into his back and he twisted to wrench it out. His scramble turned into a stumble, and his fingertips brushed the doorknob as he collapsed.

 

The next time Sherlock woke up, his head was pounding and he clenched his eyes against bright light. 

“You lied to me.” A voice purred, convincing Sherlock to open his eyes and glance over to see Jim.

“So you--!” Sherlock winced, shouting making pain from his stomach and ribs flare, and the resulting coughs hurt even more. “--sent someone to kill me?”

Jim waved his hand. “You’re such a drama queen. I sent him to pick you up.”

“He tried to stab me, Jim.”

Jim’s lips curled into a grin. “I know.” He slipped closer, carding his hands through Sherlock’s hair and laying down next to him, lips brushing against Sherlock’s neck as he spoke. “But I had to make it clear you didn’t come willingly, my dear. Besides, you can’t say it wasn’t a thrill.”

“He could have killed me.”

Sherlock felt the smile curl even more against his skin. “You know I don’t fake my fun.”

The loud sigh Sherlock let out wasn’t annoyed, but it was slightly exasperated. “At least warn me next time.”

“That would ruin the fun and you know it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m definitely not up to helping you through your heat while I’m like this.” The bruised ribs had been-- tolerable, if Sherlock took enough pain meds. But the impact to his gut left him low on breath, and sex already took enough air as is. And somehow Sherlock got the feeling sex with Jim would be more of a workout than most.

“I started taking suppressants against when I realized that you had never stopped. Mean, by the way.”

Sherlock smiled. “Eye for an eye.”

“Makes the whole world blind, dear.”

“At least cases would be harder if I was.” He turned his head and caught Jim in a kiss, and Jim kissed him back more carefully than Sherlock would’ve expected.

“Rest. Or I’ll dose you again to make you rest.”

“Not like I really have much choice anyway, is it?”

“No.”

 

So Sherlock rested. After enough pestering, Jim got him his phone, and he was able to reply to the unnecessary number of texts that he’d gotten from John and Lestrade to explain that he was okay, yes he’d gotten kidnapped a little bit, but he was good and was now working a case as a result and would be back when he was done.

Jim kept Sherlock, checking in periodically to make sure he was recovering properly. He wasn’t exactly a caretaker type and didn’t pretend to be, threatening Sherlock into sleeping or eating rather than gently convincing him. He didn’t keep Sherlock for the full four weeks of recovery, but didn’t let him leave for a week and a few days.

“John would have done a fine job taking care of me, you know.”

For a flash, Jim sneered, and his words were bitten out. “You don’t need John to take care of you.”

“What, because now I have you?”

The recoil was immediate, and Jim’s glare was cold. “Don’t be a brat.”

If Sherlock had been less injured, he would have pinned Jim down and made him beg for forgiveness for being rude. He’d have kissed him. Fucked him. Something to reassure him. But Sherlock wasn’t up for the fight Jim’d put up, so he just gave Jim a gentle smile. “You’re a shite replacement.”

He could see the anger flare in Jim’s eyes.

“Almost like you’re not a replacement at all, but something new.”

Jim tilted his head up, his gaze cooling back down just enough to be noticeable, but no more than his suspicion would allow. “I’m always something new.”

“I’ll text you.”

“You better.”

Sherlock understood the threat in the words. Not that it was necessary, he didn’t need extra motivation to seek out Moriarty when he was bedridden. 

 

**John’s fussing too much. SH**

**nothing gets me going like you talking about your pet x**

**He’s trying to make me eat. SH**

**is he succeeding? x**

**Obviously not. He’s softening his voice and repeating himself. SH**

**youre extremely transparent, darling x**

**Life’s much more boring when I know that I’m too injured for you to send minions to possibly kill me. SH**

**hey! i could still send some buff, tattoo’d monster to wreck you x**

**The jealousy is getting tedious, Jim. SH**

**you think? you just have to hear about it. i have to actually feel it x**

**I don’t want to fuck John. Or your buff employees. SH**  
**Just you. SH**

**soppy x**

**From the man who signs his texts with a kiss. SH**

**eat. i want you healed up for next time i get to see you x**

**Of course. SH**

**and sherlock?**

**Yes? SH**

**if i find out he ever so much as kisses you im going to gut him x**

**He won’t. SH**

**if he does x**

**I’m going to eat. Talk to you tomorrow, Jim. SH**

**Mhm. See you soon, lover. x**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoiler: jim doesnt like john.
> 
> also i remade [my jim rp tumblr blog](https://worthless-weight-in-gold.tumblr.com/) if you want to check that out/are a rp blog who wants to come rp w meeee


	5. throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they meet properly.

**I never got that eye. SH**

**thats because im smarter than you, sexy x**

**Are you saying it’s not worth trying? SH**

**mhm x**

**I suppose I’ll just have to actually stop, then. SH**

**how healed are you? x**

**Almost entirely. SH**

**i suppose you will then x**   
**text me x**

**Obviously. SH**

**Don’t kidnap me though this time. SH**

**Jim. SH**

**youre so boringggggg x**

**Just book us a hotel somewhere. SH**

**you could come to my main house x**

**sherlock? x**

**That sounds nice. SH**   
**I didn’t expect to be invited there is all. SH**

**yeah, well x**   
**my unpredictableness is my charm :p x**

**See you then. SHx**

**dont get soppy on me x**

**Oh you’re one to talk. SH-x**

**did you just send me a negative kiss x**

**...Perhaps. SH**

**are you 12 x**

**I’m still on pain meds. SH**

**go to sleep x**   
**dumbo x**

**Rude. SH**   
**Goodnight, Jim. SH**

**night sherls x**

 

“You’re getting all twitchy again.” John frowned, fixing Sherlock with a suspicious look. “Are you taking again?”

Sherlock sighed loudly, rolling over on the couch to send John an unimpressed look. “The fact you help me in cases will forever astound me.”

“Hey!” John had the right to be concerned. “You never text so much. And you’re clearly being careful to school your expressions. Who are you texting, if not a dealer?”

“Why would there be so much back and forth with a dealer?”

“Uh. Fair point.” The room fell quiet again outside of the sounds of John’s cup of tea tapping the table as he put it down after a sip intermittently, and then John cleared his throat. “Are you off your suppressants?”

Sherlock prickled immediately. “What?” He bit out, and he was pretty sure he felt heat raising to his skin.

John’s eyes went wide and he stared at Sherlock for longer than necessary, Sherlock was sure. “Why? Tell me it’s not for a case, Sherlock, because that’s way to dangerous to--”

“I have a date!” Sherlock barked, because he wasn’t stupid enough to induce a heat for a case. He couldn’t even think of many situation it’d be helpful, anyway. He’d fake a heat for a case but having a real one was just ridiculous- he wouldn’t be able to take in much information during. 

“What? With who?”

“No one. Does it matter?”

John raised his hands pacifying, and Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t being a silly omega to condescend to. “I was just wondering if I knew her.”

Sherlock tilted his head. “You know _of_ him.” He said slowly, gauging John for a reaction. 

“Him?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Okay. Well then. Introduce me sometime. If it, you know, goes well.”

“You’ll meet eventually.” Already had met, technically, but doubtfully one-on-one so it didn’t count. Sherlock sank back into the couch. “Interrogation over?”

“Just-- do you need me to find another place to kip for the week?”

“What? No. He has a place.”

John nodded. “Okay. Text me if you need me.”

“I think we both know I won’t be doing much texting.”

A red blush overtook John. “Sherlock!”

“It’s just the truth.” Sherlock shrugged. “Now shut up.”

John rolled his eyes, and his attention returned to his laptop.

 

**Jim. SH**

**i know x**   
**car’ll be there soon x**

 

 

He could smell the heat on himself when he finally got into the backseat, skin giving off waves of heat and droplets of sweat forming on his skin. The driver didn’t seem to notice, and the lack of smell said beta. Good. An alpha would be dangerous, and an omega would be too tempting this close to heat. Sherlock unbuttoned the top of his shirt, breathing deeply and as slowly as he could manage.

The car started, and buildings passed. Sherlock swallowed thickly.

He saw the edge of London fade, and his skin crawled unhappily. He grit his teeth. The beta glanced into the rearview mirror with a look of concern, and it only served to annoy Sherlock. He shot back a glare, and the eyes returned to the road. 

As the roads got bumpier and more dirt than anything else, Sherlock’s shirt started to cling to him and darken. He bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood for a distraction. The iron liquid had the opposite effect, making him remember instead all of Jim’s implied preferences, and Sherlock let him head fall back against the seat.

“How much longer?” He bit out eventually, and after the complete silence that led up to it, he’d have expected the beta to jump. But working for Jim (god, Jim, his dark eyes and his lips and his--) must have hardened him to jump scares because he only glanced back for a moment. 

“Another five minutes.”

Five minutes. That was tolerable. Sherlock looked outside, seeing lines of trees stretch out into the horizon. A forest then, and all the houses in that area were smaller. A tiny town, with some distance between the buildings-- different than what Sherlock had imagined. But it made sense in hindsight. People could shout without worrying about disturbing another house. Or make other loud sounds. Crashing against furniture or crying out wouldn’t be an issue. 

Sherlock glanced at his phone. Two more minutes. He was pretty sure he was descending into insanity. If the driver had been an omega Sherlock would have caused a car crash by pouncing on him.

He wondered if Jim was feeling the same. Cycles could take different lengths, even if they went off pills at the same time, and he didn’t know how long it took for Jim. If Jim had gone off of them. He could be doing the same thing he did the first time. Would Jim be that cruel? 

“We’re here.” 

Sherlock’s eyes flew open. He clenched his hands into fists, nails carving crescents into his palm, so he could steady himself and walk out of the car. The omega didn’t get out. Sherlock breathed out a sigh of relief before walking to the door, trying the knob and finding it unlocked.

He opened the door to the air smelling of dessert wine, new books. He drifted forward, unaware of his legs moving, the door shutting behind him softly and outside of his focused hearing.

He followed the smell, tripping over some journals left on the floor, and when he opened a different door it turned from dessert to something to accompany expensive steak, and Sherlock’s mouth watered.

Objects were covering the walls and floor that Sherlock didn’t bother to register, crossing over to the bed where Jim lay flushed and sleeping. It only took Sherlock resting a hand under Jim’s chin for his eyes to snap open, pupils indistinguishable from iris. Sherlock wondered if there was any iris left.

His lips bled, and he was on the mattress, shirt torn open before being peeled off his skin. He noticed his hands were on Jim’s sides, running over to dig nails into his back, and he bit back at Jim’s lips. 

No relief hit. The pain grew frantic instead, and Jim tore into Sherlock with everything he had. It worked to replace the gnawing pain with something more present, and Sherlock moved his hand to curl into Jim’s hair and press him harder against skin, teeth pressing in further as Sherlock hissed.

Sherlock flipped them, Jim’s wrists pinned above his head. Their lips connected again, moving fast and pressing hard, and Sherlock felt Jim’s hips stutter up and he collected himself enough to pull away and rip the rest of his clothes off. 

There was a few heartbeats where they stared at each other’s bodies, awe overtaking the hunger. But the hunger couldn’t be suppressed for long, and they crashed back together.

 

Jim’s legs were wrapped around Sherlock’s waist, and a stack of papers and books was knocked over as Jim scrambled to find a hold, pressed against his massive bookshelf of a wall and finding holds in the shelfs after shoving books off to make room for his hands to grip. Logically, his mouth should have dried out long ago since he seemed incapable of closing it through heavy breathing and cut off shouts, but drool still dripped from the corner.

Sherlock’s hand kept Jim safely pinned while his other pressed against parts of Jim’s body. All of his skin felt hard with how Jim was tensed all over, and Sherlock’s tongue was connected to Jim’s neck. It only broke its laving of attention when his teeth were demanded instead.

Every time Jim came, he relaxed into softness. The change from tough skin to something malleable and almost like contained liquid was gorgeous. They got to kiss slowly. Jim’s hands ran through Sherlock’s hair affectionately. 

 

Jim’s breaths came soft and satisfied. He would have been purring, Sherlock quietly mused, if he’d been equipped with the ability to. Sherlock readjusted himself on the couch, fluffing the pillow behind his head and taking a deep breath, watching Jim rise as he did so. He let it out slowly and Jim descended again. The thin blanket covered them had slipped slightly more each time Sherlock breathed out, and it was in danger of falling entirely in a few.

Before that happened, Jim shifted enough to stir Sherlock’s heat again. Sherlock made a quiet sound, tilting Jim’s head to kiss him, and Jim slowly came to while he kissed back and they were soon on the floor, Jim’s legs spread and Sherlock’s head buried between them. Jim’s back arched before he sunk, and then they rolled over for Jim to return the favor.

 

As quickly as the heat started, it ended slowly. Jim and Sherlock got to go slowly. Instead of rutting and tearing, Jim covered Sherlock with kisses and slide on top to ride him slowly. 

They regained the ability to talk. (Neither of them did, while actually having sex, because heat still equaled too much honesty during that.) Jim rolled onto his back on the carpet, breaths heavy and happy, and Sherlock glanced over.

“I’m not the first person you’ve spent a heat with.”

Jim shook his head in confirmation. “Maybe you’ll be the last.”

Sherlock smiled. “How uncharacteristically romantic of you.”

A lilting laugh, and Jim glanced down to his colourful body. “I think we can safely say we are both widening each other’s definitions of what’s in character for us.” He murmured, rolling over to rest on Sherlock’s chest and catch him in a soft and slow kiss.

“I’m starting to think you fancy me.”

“No, really?”

“Mhm.”

Jim quirked an eyebrow. “I could say the same for you.”

“A hefty accusation.”

The feeling of Jim giggling against his mouth made Sherlock’s heart flutter. “I’m very bold.”

“I’ve noticed. Bold and forward.”

“And sexy.”

“Oh, of course. How could I forget?”

Jim stared at him before leaning in for another kiss. Sherlock rested a hand on Jim’s cheek and kissed him back.

 

“Have you read all these?” Sherlock asked when they’d finally made their way back to the bedroom and he took in all the books absolutely everywhere, not just on the wall-wide and wall-tall bookshelf.

Jim sent him an amused look. “What did you think I did with all my time?”

Sherlock glanced over to him. “Evil things…?”

Another of the giggles Sherlock was getting very fond of. “Mm, well, reading is included under evil things then. That and sleep.”

“I wouldn’t think you have the time between planning all the crimes.”

“Oh, because you’re so jam packed with solving crimes worthy of your time?”

Sherlock tilted his head in concession. He looked back at the shelf, walking down the length of it slowly. “There’s a lot of poetry here.”

“I like poetry.” 

“Do you write?”

“I do.”

“Can I read some?”

Sherlock heard Jim shift on the bed behind him, and turned to see Jim holding out a hand. He walked over, taking the hand and joining Jim on the bed. “You can read it all, if you want. Later.”

“When?”

“You’ll know when.” Jim whispered, and he silenced Sherlock’s following questions with a kiss that crumpled into them working out the last of the heats remaining in their systems.

 

**I’m okay. SH**

**I was getting worried. JW**

**All safe. It went well. I’ll be back in a day or so. SH**

**With him? JW**

**No. SH**

**Okay. JW**   
**Glad you had a good time. JW**

“Tell me that’s literally anyone but John.” Jim whined, sliding his arms over Sherlock’s shoulders and pressing his chest to Sherlock’s back.

Sherlock glanced up from his spot on the floor, leaning back more against Jim and the couch, and he put his phone down. “It’s literally anyone but John.”

“Liar.” Jim stuck his tongue out.

“You never asked me to tell the truth.”

The silence that followed was unexpected. Sherlock glanced back to Jim again, finding himself fixed with an intense look. 

“Jim?”

“You know I’ve never lied to you.”

Sherlock blinked. “I know. It was a joke.”

“You’re honest with me, right?”

“Yes.” Sherlock sighed. “It was just a jo--”

“This isn’t love.”

Oh. _Oh._ Okay. “Right.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Do we have to talk about it?”

“Tell me.” Jim still hadn’t blinked, and Sherlock’s skin felt uncomfortable on the rest of him.

“Yes.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “You couldn’t love me. You know that.”

“I could.”

They widened again. “Do you?”

“...no.” Sherlock conceded. 

“See? I--”

“Not yet.”

Jim drew back. 

“I think I’m starting to.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“I do mean it.”

“You shouldn’t. You know you can’t have me.”

“Maybe not tomorrow. But I can today.” Sherlock turned around, wrapping his arms Jim and pulling him close. Jim neither pulled away nor moved any closer. “Does it matter? You always striked me as someone who knows how to live in the moment.”

“Not to the point of idiocy.”

“Did you invite me here just to make this point?”

“No. Maybe.” Jim finally relaxed against Sherlock, shifting closer and wrapping his arms around Sherlock in return. “No.”

“Why did you invite me here, then?”

“I wanted you to be the last person I spend a heat with. A girl get’s tired of strangers eventually, you know?”

Sherlock laughed quietly. “You seem very sure you won’t get tired of me.”

“I won’t.” Jim murmured. His hold got tighter.

“Jim…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you in love with me?”

“I don’t know.” Sherlock felt him shrug. “Probably. You should go. John’s waiting on you.”

“I’m not in love with John.”

“I know.”

“He can wait.”

“I want you to go.” 

Sherlock took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “I hate not knowing what I did wrong.”

Jim smiled against Sherlock’s neck. “Nothing. I’m going to do something wrong if you don’t go now.”

Sherlock pulled back to catch Jim’s gaze. “Do something wrong. John can wait.”

The smile wavered but ultimately stayed. “Go.” He murmured. “Please? For me?”

“Fine. Text me later.”

“I will.”

“Promise me.” 

Jim sighed. “I promise I’ll text you.”

“Good. Can I take some of your books?”

“Of course. Come back and take however many you like whenever you want to.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

Sherlock let go of Jim, and Jim dropped his arms before drawing back and burying himself under the covers.

Sherlock poked around the books for a while but Jim didn’t say he changed his mind about wanting Sherlock to go. He didn’t move from under the covers, either. Sherlock chose his books and left, finding a car waiting to take him. It was a different driver. Thoughtful. Sherlock got in.

 

**love you xo**

**Don’t do this. SH**

**dont forget to come get whatever youd like x**

**Jim. Please. SH**

**thank you x**   
**for giving me that week x**

**I’m not ready for you to go. SH**

**all my journals are under my bed. just in case you want to skim them sometime x**

**I love you. SH**

**you said you didnt lie to me x**

**I will love you. SH**

**im saving you from that x**

**I don’t want saving. SH**

**You’re being selfish, not kind. SH**

**I hate you. SH**

 

**I’ll miss you. SH**

 

**Goodbye, Jim. SH**

**ERROR 6295: This number has been disconnected.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i luv them. what bros. thanks to everyone who stayed w this fic during the breaks and inconsistent schedule! :3

**Author's Note:**

> i love the concept of the omegaverse but i dont like alpha/omega bc it just feels like making things straighter to me
> 
> but i LOVE me some omega/omega
> 
> add in some extra gay
> 
> everything's twice as gay, now


End file.
